The Memory Of Love
by ashwitaashok
Summary: Love; no matter how long it might last, it leaves a lasting impact on your life, for the rest of your life. Being truly in love is something everyone desires. This is the story of two boys who had that chance to be completely alive


**Okay, so I'm writing angst again. Read and review? Please? I'm going to start writing Come Let Me Love You chapter 13 after this. So, enjoy, and don't hate me. I'm warning you:**

**Warning: This story contains character death of the major kind, homophobia, as well as a vague reference to mental illness. If any of this triggers you, this is not the story for you.**

**Disclaimer:I do not own Glee, or Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, or David Karofsky. Anything else you might recognize also does not belong to me.**

On a quiet day in the middle of November, a pale, blue eyed boy named Kurt Hummel is mocked and taunted by his only friends. One of his former tormentors makes a cruel comment which the boy takes to heart.

That's how he ends up desperately trying to find his way around the hallways of a huge, prestigious private school in Westerville. He is startled by the sudden stampede of students, all rushing in the same direction. He is so unused to his touches being received well that he is hesitant to reach out and tap the shoulder of the nearest boy.

But when that boy turns around, and their eyes meet for the first time, a connection like any other is made.

"My name's Blaine", the boy with honey-coloured eyes says, staring at the stranger in quiet awe, reaching out a hand for him to shake.

"Kurt", the spy utters, taking the hand.

* * *

Kurt watches, stunned, as his new acquaintance sings straight to him, serenades him, pointing right at him. He breaks out into applause along with the rest of the crowd that he barely notices. His eyes are fixed solely on the boy with neatly gelled down hair.

Across the room, two golden eyes stare straight back at him.

* * *

"Take it easy, Kurt", the boy introduced as Wes tells him as he stands up, leaving with a companionable arm thrown over his friend David's shoulder.

The silence between them is palpable. Kurt, though inexplicably drawn to this boy, is wary.

Blaine takes his hand. Kurt jolts.

He isn't used to well-meaning touch.

One sentence from Blaine is all it takes for him to break, to explode, to let down his walls.

Blaine holds him as he cries.

* * *

At the end of the coffee meeting, phone numbers are exchanged, and a promise of a date that Saturday is made.

* * *

Saturday night brings laughter, a game of twenty questions, quiet declarations of feelings that have somehow developed into something so intense it makes them ache, feeling that have developed far too early to be considered normal.

The two boys decide the world doesn't decide what is normal.

That night, they share a kiss that leaves them both wanting more.

* * *

They meet up again and again, and the pale boy tells his story.

He lives in hell, but he never shares the full extent of his sorrow.

He fears doing so might drive away the only good thing in his life.

* * *

The third Saturday after they first met, the teenagers confess three words that may have come too early, but are no less true.

"I love you."

Kurt shyly presents a box, sliding it across the table, and rambles nervously while Blaine opens it.

Blaine's eyes tear up as he strokes the smooth leather band, with the inscription, '_Blaine. I will never say goodbye to you-Kurt'._

He drags Kurt into a hard kiss by his lapels.

"I love you, dummy", he says against Kurt's lips.

* * *

The pale boy walks into his school with his head held high.

That afternoon, he exits, shaking like a leaf, his head bowed low.

* * *

Two days later, Blaine has a horrible feeling in his stomach.

He calls his boyfriend, hoping he will soothe his worries.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Hi, you've reached Kurt; leave a message after the beep". _Beep._

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Hi, you've reached-"

He utters a curse as he hurls his phone across his dorm room.

He grabs his car keys and runs.

* * *

"No, pleasepleaseplease don't do this", Kurt Hummel cries out, two towns across from the panicking boy.

"You asked for it", the bulky football player growls, too lost in his madness to realize what he is doing.

"I won't tell anyone, please, just leave me-"

"Shut _up!"_ David Karofsky shouts as he plunges the switchblade into the boy's gut, twisting, paying no heed to the scream of pure agony as he pulls it out and repeats the process.

As Kurt Hummel falls to the floor, the wide receiver tosses the blade next to him and flees the scene.

"Blaine", the boy chokes out, before his eyes close

* * *

There are ambulances and police cars surrounding the school when Blaine reaches the scene.

He tries to get through, but no one there knows him.

He never gets a chance to even glimpse at his love's lifeless body.

* * *

"Blaine Anderson, patient number 3 56", a bored nurse calls out.

A man with curly hair, and a small smile on his face stands up from his chair, picking up his duffel bag that carried all the clothes he had used in the past three years, and a few other belongings.

As he leaves, he turns around, glancing around the room, before sighing and walking out with determination, leaving Westerville Mental Facility behind forever.

* * *

Years down the road, in New York, a sixty-two year old man sits next to two proud parents as they watch their daughter get married. The young man leans over to the man who never loved again, to the man who raised him single-handedly and whispers, "She grew up really fast, huh, Pops? Do you think we did as well as you did with me?"

Blaine smiles as he replies, "Yeah, Jordan. You did."

His hand moves automatically to his wrist as he strokes the now well-worn leather, thinking, _I couldn't have done it without you._

* * *

"_We all want to fall in love. Why? Because the experience makes us feel completely alive, where every sense is heightened, and every emotion magnified. Our everyday reality is shattered, and we are flying to the heavens. It may only last a moment, an hour, or an afternoon, but that doesn't diminish its value, because we are left with memories that we treasure for the rest of our lives"-_The Mirror Has Two Faces


End file.
